


bigger than the universe

by nightswatch



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 00:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17652521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: After embarking on a mission to find a way to bring back Allura with the other paladins, Keith and Shiro get closer again.





	bigger than the universe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ronanlynchisneversleepingagain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronanlynchisneversleepingagain/gifts).



> I think I'm just gonna write a variety of fics where Keith and Shiro end up sleeping in the same bed, let this be my legacy.
> 
> Also, I don't know who Curtis is.

“Weird to be back out here, isn’t it?”

Keith doesn’t look up when Shiro sits down next to him. He keeps his eyes on the observation window. He’s been sitting here for two hours, because he somehow can’t convince himself to stop staring into space and go to sleep.

To Keith, it’s not weird to be back out here. He’s been out here all along. But it’s weird that he’s on this Altean ship with Pidge and Hunk and Lance and… Shiro. All of them, back together.

It took them a while to get everyone back on the same ship. Keith still feels his guilt gnaw at him because he ran away from them all after the end of the war, but that was what he needed at the time. He spent some time with the Blade and then returned to Altea for the memorial they were holding for Allura.

They didn’t talk about it at first, but none of them were willing to return to the rest of their lives without at least considering their possibilities. All it took in the end was for Lance to say, “She might still be out there somewhere.”

They know it won’t be easy, but they all agreed that they couldn’t just go back home. They’re going to try to find her, and if not her, maybe a way to bring her back.

Seeing the other paladins – seeing Shiro – hit Keith like a ton of bricks. He didn’t even notice how much he’d missed them until Hunk pulled him into a hug and Keith wasn’t sure how to let go. He didn’t notice how much time he’d spent pushing away all thoughts of Shiro until he ran into him one night and all the things he was keeping inside his head suddenly spilled out of him.

And now they’re here, staring into space together.

They spent some time together on Altea, they talked about things, but every conversation they have still seems fragile. Keith is afraid that any word he might say could have the power break something. He’s afraid that every word Shiro might say could break the peace they’ve worked their way back to over the last couple of weeks.

The silence between them is loaded. Keith can _feel_ it between them.

It’s Shiro who breaks it. He’s broken most of their silences over the last few weeks. “Aren’t you tired?”

“Aren’t you?” Keith asks.

Shiro flexes the fingers of his new arm. “I am, but… I’m not really used to it yet. Everything feels different.”

Keith hums. He’s snuck a few glances at Shiro’s new arm; they built for him on Altea. It’s smaller, almost looks like the Galran arm, really, except the metal is Altean, and much brighter. It’s less intimidating. And, Keith thinks, what matters to Shiro the most is that it’s not the arm that accompanied him through a war. There’s nothing special about it. It’s just an advanced kind of prosthetic, really.

The longer Keith stares down at it, the more he wants to reach out and lace their fingers together. Keith folds his arms across his chest, because he knows better than to actually act on that ridiculous impulse.

“It’s keeping you awake?” Keith asks.

Shiro nods. “It’s more sensitive than the other ones. I keep waking myself up. I guess just need a week or two to adjust.”

“But it’s good otherwise?”

Again, Shiro flexes his fingers. He smiles. “It’s good.”

Keith nods and forces his eyes back up. All those stars out there. The entire universe at their feet. And all he wants to do is look at Shiro.

“So?” Shiro says.

Keith tilts his head. “What?”

“Why are you still awake?”

Keith drags his fingers through his hair. Why is he still awake? He’s still awake because he’s gotten very good at convincing himself that he doesn’t need that much sleep anyway. He’s awake because it’s easier than being asleep.

“Keith,” Shiro says and leans over to bump his shoulder against Keith’s. “I thought we were over not talking.”

They are. They’re talking now, but Keith doesn’t like the way his thoughts claw at him, trying to stay inside his brain. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Shiro’s arm move and a moment later it’s around his shoulders, the warmth of the Altean metal seeping through his shirt. Keith leans into it and closes his eyes.

“Why do I feel like we’re going back to war?” Keith says quietly. “We’re not.”

“No,” Shiro says, “we’re not.”

“I know that we’re not.” Keith doesn’t know what’s wrong with him.

Shiro’s thumb drags back and forth slowly on Keith’s back. “Do you…” Shiro trails off.

“What?” Keith opens his eyes to glance at him.

Shiro is quiet for a moment. He must feel it too, how fragile this is. “You, uh… you wanna sleep in my room?” he asks.

“Oh,” Keith says.

He should say no. He should say that he’ll be okay on his own.

Because he will be okay. He will be. But maybe tonight he doesn’t have to be okay on his own. He doesn’t want to be, so eventually he nods, and says, “Okay.”

*

Keith sleeps.

He sleeps a few careful inches away from Shiro, and he wakes up with Shiro still a few careful inches away from him. The fingers of Shiro’s new arm are curled into the sheets right next to Keith’s head.

Keith lets himself stare for a moment, at the soft strands of white hair falling into Shiro’s face, nose smushed into his pillow. His breathing is slow and even, but when Keith moves, the sheets moving with him just the tiniest bit, Shiro’s hand gives a twitch and he wakes up, blinking at Keith.

“Hey,” Shiro says.

Keith swallows hard and sits up. “Hey, uh… I should…” He nods at the door. He has no idea what time it is, but probably early enough that no one will catch him sneaking out of Shiro’s room. He looks down at Shiro, who still looks soft and cozy in the artificial morning light that the Altean ship wakes them up with. Keith wants to lie back down and fit himself against Shiro.

Like they used to.

It seems like a lifetime ago now. When they first found the Castle of Lions. When they realized that they wouldn’t be going home any time soon. The first time it happened, they just talked and Shiro fell asleep in Keith’s bed, and after that, he came back a few times, and Keith tried not to feel a single thing, but he didn’t exactly succeed.

It’s the same thing this morning. He’s feeling all the things he’s been trying so, so hard not to feel.

“See you at breakfast,” Keith says and then unceremoniously climbs over Shiro and slips out of his room without looking back.

*

He wishes he was smart enough not to let it happen again.

But he’s not.

So he goes back, and he goes back, again and again and again.

*

Keith leaves the observation deck much later than most days.

He spent about an hour sitting next to Lance, staring out at the stars with him, wondering if there was something he could say, or if the fact that he was there was enough.

They’ve been on this mission for over a week. And since it’s only been about a week, it shouldn’t be surprising that they’ve found absolutely nothing, but he can tell that Lance was hoping that they’d have a lead by now.

Keith didn’t know what to tell him.

Lance eventually got up, gave Keith’s shoulder a pat, and then wordlessly shuffled away. Keith stayed for a moment longer, eyes on the stars, but it’s time to go to sleep.

As he walks down the hallway, Keith already knows that he’ll slip into Shiro’s room again. He can’t explain why he does it, why he can’t just sleep in his own bed. He hasn’t had a single bad dream all week. Most mornings, he couldn’t remember his dreams at all, but what if he goes to sleep on his own and they come back again?

So one explanation is fairly simple. When he lies down in Shiro’s bed, he sleeps. When he lies down in his own, there’s a chance that he’ll stare at the ceiling all night and listen to the noises of the ship, his thoughts slowly escaping him until they don’t feel like they’re his own anymore.

But then it stops being simple.

Then it’s the conversation they had back on Altea. That fight, that screaming and yelling that ending with Keith’s face pressed into Shiro’s chest, with Shiro apologizing for keeping him at an arm’s length towards the end of the war.

Then it’s the weeks after, where they met in the mornings, in the afternoons, drawing up plans with the other paladins, and them meeting outside the castle at night, sitting in a field and staring up at the stars, trying to somehow find the people they used to be, and getting to know the people they’ve become.

Then it’s the way Keith’s heart flutters every time Shiro looks at him. Then it’s the way his chest feels tight when he wakes up next to Shiro in the morning. Then it’s all the smiles, all the jokes, all the casual touches, every single minute they spend together.

And nothing about any of that is simple.

It can’t be simple, but that doesn’t keep Keith out of Shiro’s room. Because he sleeps when he’s in Shiro’s bed.

Keith quickly goes to his own room to change, gives Kosmo a gentle pat, and then sneaks back across the hall. When Shiro’s door slides open, Keith slips inside, glancing up and down the empty corridor to make sure nobody notices. Because how is he supposed to explain this to somebody else when he can’t even explain it to himself?

The door slides back shut behind him. The lights are still on, but Shiro didn’t wait up for him. He’s in the middle of his bed, a book open on his chest, glasses on his nose. He’s sprawled out like a starfish and Keith can’t help but smile about it.

He sneaks closer and carefully pulls the book off Shiro’s chest, making sure to put the bookmark in the right spot. Shiro shifts a little and lets out the quietest of sighs, but he doesn’t wake up. So far so good. Keith sits down on the mattress as gingerly as he can and reaches for Shiro’s glasses. They end up on the table with Shiro still fast asleep.

Keith looks down at Shiro, trying to figure out where he might fit. Usually, he’d fit himself somewhere between Shiro and the wall, but there’s not enough room for him over there today. There’s more room on the left, but Shiro’s arm is draped across the bed, and if that’s where Keith lies down, he’ll wake Shiro up for sure, because he still twitches every time someone touches his new arm without a warning. Keith shifts, a little torn, because Shiro looks so peaceful right now, except it seems that Shiro is finally noticing that Keith is awkwardly sitting at the edge of his mattress, just staring at him like an idiot. His eyelids flutter, a frown making an appearance.

“Keith?”

“Yeah?”

“Huh,” Shiro says and scoots over, and now there’s definitely more room on the left.

Well, Shiro made that choice for him.

Keith reaches out to flick the lights off and then curls up next to Shiro in the dark, trying not to nudge Shiro’s arm, but of course he does and Shiro twitches and grumbles something at him.

“Sorry,” Keith whispers and Shiro hums in reply, so maybe all is forgiven.

Shiro is snoring very quietly and the ship is humming, but other than that the universe is quiet. Keith thinks about that sometimes, before he falls asleep – that they’re in space, deep, deep in space, and that they’re further away from home than anyone else from Earth has ever been. In moments like that he realizes just how small they are. They might have saved the universe, but they’re still just the tiniest speck in this vast sea of planets and stars. They’ll be gone in the blink of an eye.

It’s warm enough that Keith doesn’t wiggle under the covers and just stays close to Shiro instead. He falls asleep within a few minutes, curled up on his side, foot pressed against Shiro’s ankle.

He sleeps until Shiro’s alarm goes off. Much too early. So early that Keith doesn’t even make an attempt to open his eyes. He rolls over and groans.

“Sorry, sorry,” Shiro mumbles and his alarm stops a second later. “Why are you all the way down there?”

Keith frowns and looks up. He is a lot further down on the bed than he usually is. “I just didn’t want to keep you up,” Keith says. “You know…” He reaches out taps Shiro’s new arm.

Shiro’s fingers give a jerk. “Yeah. Thanks. I’m getting used to it. It’s just…” He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter.”

Keith rolls onto his stomach and raises his eyebrows at Shiro.

“The other ones didn’t feel like this,” Shiro says. “They were… less than the real thing. And this… it’s not the real thing either, but…”

“But?”

Shiro shrugs and flexes his fingers. A small smile flits across his face. “Nothing. It’s nice. It’s not… It’s not a weapon.”

“No,” Keith says, “it’s not.” He reaches out to drag his fingers along the inside of Shiro’s arm and Shiro shivers, just a little, and his breath hitches, barely audible, and Keith’s fingers still, hovering just above the metal. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t…” Shiro closes his eyes. “It felt good.”

“Oh,” Keith says and lowers his fingers back down and keeps going, fingertips wandering. Slow at first, then faster, fingers wrapping around Shiro’s wrist, squeezing, before traveling back up to the crook of his elbow.

Shiro stays very quiet, not moving an inch as Keith’s fingertips continue their exploration.

They both jump when Shiro’s second alarm starts to go off. This one means it really is time to get up now, because if they don’t show up for breakfast, someone will come looking for them.

Shiro reaches out to turn it off, his eyes on Keith. His cheeks are pink. Keith holds his gaze for a moment and there’s something in the look on Shiro’s face that’s both achingly familiar and completely new to him. He feels like he’s seen it before, but he wasn’t supposed to, and he didn’t read anything into it in the past but now… Now it can mean something.

Footsteps make their way past Shiro’s room.

Probably Hunk on his way to the kitchen.

They need to get up, but that’s okay. Keith already knows that he’ll come back tonight. He knows Shiro will let him.

*

They don’t usually talk much in the morning.

Sometimes it seems like Shiro wants to say something more than just, “Good morning,” and, “I’ll see you at breakfast,” but Keith never sticks around long enough to listen.

He feels terrible about it every time he climbs over Shiro and hastily pulls on his shoes before Shiro can ask a question that Keith doesn’t know how to answer.

*

“What did you dream about last night?”

That’s one of those questions, except Keith technically knows how to answer, he just doesn’t want to. He doesn’t reply right away. Maybe he could pretend that he fell asleep again.

Lazy Sundays don’t really exist in space, but they’re having one anyway. They had a disappointing day yesterday, and they all came back to the ship caked in alien mud, frustrated and tired, so they agreed that they’d be more productive if they got some extra sleep.

Shiro turned off his alarms last night, delayed the fake morning light, but they both ended up waking up earlier than expected. They exchanged a few meaningless sentences and decided that they’d stay in bed a little while longer.

Keith sighs and stretches. “I don’t remember,” he says eventually.

It’s a lie. Shiro probably knows that it’s a lie. Instead of calling Keith out on it, he hums and gentle fingers sneak into Keith’s hair. “You were shaking.”

“Sorry,” Keith says.

“It’s okay,” Shiro whispers.

Keith closes his eyes again, because he doesn’t want to talk about this and Shiro’s fingers are still in his hair and it’s too much to look at him on top of that. He almost starts drifting, almost forgets where he is or why he’s here. When was the last time he felt this warm and safe? When was the last time he actually wanted to stay in bed?

“Your hair is soft,” Shiro says, followed by an abrupt and jarring silence. Keith doesn’t move, doesn’t open his eyes. Shiro’s fingers disappear. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I just don’t know how… Keith.”

Keith looks at Shiro, whose wide and sincere eyes are fixed on him. “Yes?” Keith says.

“This…” Shiro only says and then trails off.

It’s really enough. That one word – _this_ – is enough to tell Keith what Shiro is struggling with. _This_ , what they’re doing here, it’s not nothing, but not something either. They’re somewhere in between. They’re hovering in the hallway, not sure if they should knock on the door.

Keith wants to bury his face in his pillow and ignore that this is a conversation they need to have, but his pillow is, in fact, Shiro’s pillow, and he’s sleeping in this bed like he belongs here, even though he really doesn’t know if he belongs anywhere at all.

Shiro holds his gaze, won’t let him slip away this time.

Keith waits for him to ask his question, whatever it is. _What are we doing here? Don’t you think we should stop?_

But Shiro doesn’t say anything, he just scoots a little closer, maybe an inch, maybe even less, his eyes never leaving Keith’s. It’s a question in itself, an invitation, too, but Keith doesn’t know what his answer is. He gives it an inch too, and it’s enough for their foreheads to touch.

It’s all he can give right now. It’s a small step away from _nothing_.

A moment later, Shiro’s fingers curl around his neck, the metal warm but not quite like skin and Keith shivers under Shiro’s fingertips. Then Shiro’s fingers are back in his hair, slowly untangling a knotted strand here and there, gently scratching now and again, until they eventually still, quietly asking Keith to stay close.

It would be so easy to just lean in and kiss Shiro now, but Keith isn’t quite ready to kick in that door.

*

Keith doesn’t usually sneak into Shiro’s room before Shiro is even in there, but today Shiro got caught up in a discussion with Pidge and Lance on the bridge and Keith joined them too late to get involved, so he decided to sneak away.

He was sort of on autopilot when he crossed the hall to Shiro’s room after he’d gotten ready for bed, he didn’t even consider that Shiro wasn’t going to be there.

Now he’s hovering in the middle of Shiro’s room, unsure if he’s allowed to just climb into bed. Shiro wouldn’t mind, right? If Shiro was already in bed, Keith would just lie down next to him. It’s fine. Shiro told him that he could sleep in his bed with him whenever he wanted.

It’s fine.

Keith slowly crawls into bed, burrowing under the covers. He doesn’t bother turning off the lights, because Shiro will hopefully join him soon. The bed is cold without him in it. He starts drifting off, his head on Shiro’s pillow, but isn’t quite asleep when the door slides open and Shiro comes into the room.

A soft, surprised breath, then Shiro starts moving about quietly, probably trying not to wake up Keith, who’s not even really asleep. He could say something, but instead he watches Shiro through half-lidded eyes as he moves about carefully, disappears in the bathroom, and then reappears again to turn off the lights and climb into bed with Keith. He wiggles a little and pulls up the sheets, making sure that Keith is tucked in as well.

Keith hums at him in greeting.

“Sleep well,” Shiro whispers.

Again, Keith only hums.

_You, too._

*

Keith doesn’t realize how late it is until Shiro lowers himself down on the floor beside him.

He’s been sitting by the observation window on the bridge for fuck knows how long, the lights above his head dimmed, the universe vast and full of promises. Kosmo has been sitting with him; he’s asleep now, curled into a huge, furry ball.

Shiro doesn’t say a word, but somehow Keith still senses a question in his silence.

“I lost track of time,” Keith says.

Shiro hums. “Do you want me to go?”

Keith frowns, not sure what to do with that question, why Shiro thinks that Keith wouldn’t want him around. Maybe because Keith is usually fast asleep in Shiro’s bed around this time. “No,” Keith says and leans closer to Shiro, so their arms are pressed together.

Slowly, not sure if he’s allowed, he lowers his hand, two of his fingers landing on Shiro’s thigh. Next to him, Shiro’s breath does a funny little thing, and it encourages Keith to slowly slide his entire hand onto Shiro’s thigh. The fabric of his pajama pants is soft and Shiro has gone very, very still.

“Keith,” Shiro says, and it sounds like a question.

“Yes,” Keith replies, even though he’s not sure what exactly Shiro is asking.

Shiro lets out a slow breath and then Shiro’s hand is on his back, fingers slowly trailing down Keith’s spine and back up again as Shiro leans in closer and nuzzles into Keith’s hair. Keith closes his eyes and takes inventory of all the places where Shiro is touching him, all the places he’s touching Shiro – his hand on Shiro’s thigh, Shiro’s fingers soft on the back of his neck, Shiro’s nose in his hair, his lips so close that all Keith would have to do is turn his head.

He doesn’t. He can’t. It’s already too much.

Keith moves his hand, slowly, deliberately, along Shiro’s thigh and then reaches for Shiro’s other hand, the metal fingers warm against Keith’s skin. He gently pulls it against his chest, where his heart is trying to escape his ribcage. He wants Shiro to feel this. Shiro’s reply is a soft gasp.

Keith looks straight ahead. The universe is still vast and full of promises.

He smiles at the endless stars.

*

Keith has lost track of how many mornings he’s shared with Shiro. He’s lost track of how many times he’s woken up and found himself face to face with Shiro. Most of the time Shiro is already awake, and sometimes he’s watching Keith, and sometimes he’s reading a book, but sometimes, on rare days, Keith wakes up before Shiro.

Then he gets to watch as Shiro’s eyelids flutter, often just before his alarm starts going off. This morning there is no alarm, but Keith just woke up, almost like his body is so used to waking up at the exact same time every morning, and he’s not surprised that Shiro wakes up a moment later, eyes bleary as he smiles at Keith.

“Good morning,” Shiro mumbles and rolls over onto his stomach, eyes closed.

“Good morning,” Keith says, considering Shiro’s arm, not so new anyone now, next to him on the sheets.

Keith touches one finger to Shiro’s wrist, and Shiro’s fingers don’t twitch, but his lips do. Keith trails his finger up and down Shiro’s forearm for a little while and watches a content smile appear on Shiro’s face. Keith drags his thumb over the back of Shiro’s hand and then gently lifts it up, to his lips, and presses a kiss to Shiro’s knuckles, because… he wanted to.

Shiro’s eyelids flutter. “Keith,” he says.

He does that a lot. Says Keith’s name like it means everything.

It rattles Keith every time.

“Yes,” Keith says, and does it again. His lips brush against the metal and Shiro’s breath hitches. Shiro’s eyes are on him, watching him, like he’s waiting for something.

Keith knows what he’s waiting for and he wants to bolt.

Shiro is too important and sometimes the feelings Keith has for him seem bigger than the universe. He doesn’t know what to do with them, so he holds Shiro’s hand close to his chest and closes his eyes and tries to calm his heart and deal with his frayed nerves.

He’s been wanting this for so long.

He can’t tell Shiro that he’s scared of this, of surrendering himself to this. He’s never learned how to say these things out loud. But maybe Shiro already knows all that.

Keith opens his eyes and finds Shiro looking back at him.

“Breakfast?” Shiro asks.

“Yeah,” Keith says.

He gives Shiro’s hand a squeeze before he lets go and then climbs out of bed, across Shiro, like he always does.

Shiro follows him, puts on his glasses and tugs the sheets into place and Keith finds himself slowing on his way to the door, watching as Shiro returns his bed into that pristine miracle that Keith finds whenever he sneaks into this room before Shiro. It fascinates him that Shiro has the patience for this; it’s not like anyone is going to check if his room is clean.

“Still here?” Shiro asks, his smile amused when he looks over his shoulder.

Keith is aware that he’s somewhat awkwardly hovering in the middle of Shiro’s room, it’s just… he’s never seen this. He never stuck around long enough to see this early morning Shiro. It shouldn’t be possible to be this fond of a person.

Shiro doesn’t seem to notice that Keith somehow got caught up in this moment and absent-mindedly grabs the sweater that was hanging over his chair and hands it to Keith. “Here, it’s kinda chilly, isn’t it?”

Keith takes the sweater, but he also grabs Shiro’s arm. “Wait.”

Eyebrows raised, Shiro stills.

“Wait,” Keith says again and pulls Shiro closer. The sweater ends up on the floor. He leaves Shiro’s hand against his side and wraps his arms around him, standing on his tiptoes to kiss Shiro. He almost trips, but Shiro grabs him and keeps him close, laughing quietly into their kiss.

It’s probably the least romantic moment Keith could have chosen, but he couldn’t have waited any longer.

“So I guess I should give you my sweater more often?” Shiro quips.

Keith laughs.

Shiro’s hand his still on the small of his back. He tucks a strand of hair behind Keith’s ear with the other one. It’s such a small thing, and Shiro barely touches his skin, but Keith still feels like he’s on fire. He wonders if it’s the same for Shiro. His fingers linger against the side of Keith’s face for a moment and the metal almost feels warmer than it did earlier.

“Breakfast?” Shiro asks again.

Keith looks up at him and shakes his head before he pulls him down for another kiss.

Not just yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated :)


End file.
